


Dancing's Not A Crime

by Bowtiez



Category: Panic! at the Disco, brendon urie - Fandom
Genre: Cleaning, Dancer Reader, Dancing, Dancing and Singing, Excited Brendon Urie, Fangirls, Friendship, Grocery Shopping, Lucky Reader, Platonic Relationships, Reader Catches A Break, Reader-Insert, Sassy Brendon Urie, Supportive Brendon Urie, Swearing, Sweetheart Brendon Urie, nervous reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-08 02:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17378258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bowtiez/pseuds/Bowtiez
Summary: Reader's just going about the usual closing shift at her job, when a certain Lead Singer in a well known Pop-Punk band catches her in her element. Brendon & Dancer!Reader(Every time I have the closing shift at my job this idea always pops into my head while I'm mopping, so I decided to make it a reality! -an imaginary reality, but whatever-)Enjoy~





	Dancing's Not A Crime

**Author's Note:**

> I personally don't picture this as BrendonxReader, but you're more then welcome to! I like the idea of Brendon platonically taking care of and helping Reader out. Anyways, please continue on!
> 
> Also, written before the actually Dancing's Not A Crime music video came out :)

Closing was definitely the best time to be working. You didn’t like your job at the chain grocery store, but it was take what you could get at this point in your early twenties. 

You’d moved to Las Angeles from a small little town in the middle of nowhere. Now you lived in a dumpy little apartment that had questionable security- but you’d never been happier out in the real world. 

You hadn’t had any plans when you’d moved to LA. Knew no one. Had nothing but the clothes on your back and a cellphone (and some money you’d been saving for years.) LA was a new start. Something big. You’d make something of yourself! Except... Well, it was actually really fricken hard. 

So, that’s how you’d found yourself working at some huge chain store that you’d never even heard of before coming to LA. It wasn’t the best position. The management sucked, your coworkers were practically useless- but you’d managed to keep a smile on your face and get your job done. You had work place friends, and the management seemed to like you enough, but you still didn’t particularly like your occupation. It would do though. Build up money and be able to cover food and rent. 

You worked both mornings and evenings. Mornings were alright, but nights were totally the time to be working. It was peaceful at night. The floor was usually empty and staff tended to keep to their own departments, except for the occasional garbage compactor calls where you’d all take the days scraps and boxes to be recycled and thrown away, usually taking a few minutes to socialize in the line. 

The management didn’t really care what you did in the evening, as long as everything on the task list was completed and the station tided for whomever was to arrive in the morning. 

Evenings where the time you loved. You didn’t have to listen to the same fifty songs the store played on repeat through the day. You always had your music playing from your phone as you worked. It was great. It wasn’t exactly liked that the night staff did this while customers where still shopping, but the maybe six shoppers you’d see within the two hours before your department closed was hardly worth suffering through the regular playlist that was family friendly. 

Besides, it wasn’t often parents with small children did their grocery shopping after eight at night, and senior citizens didn’t tend to stay long after picking through the shelf of reductions. 

Anyways, you didn’t even start playing your own music until you’d be staying behind the counter for a while. You didn’t bother while you cleaned the fresh case of baked goods, or walked the floor doing reductions. You only really listened to your music while you washed the dishes that had accumulated during the day, swept the floors, wiped and disinfected the table surfaces and, of course, while you mopped, because who wanted to mop to boring radio appropriate songs? 

You were in a _Panic! At the Disco_ kind of feeling tonight. So, you opened your Spotify and selected the playlist of your favorite Panic! songs. You settled yourself at the sink in the back, phone perched on the shelf safe from the water and suds. You sang happily to _The Ballad of Mona Lisa_. You tapped the beat against whatever object you happened to be washing, fading in and out of the lyrics as you focused on your task, humming along absentmindedly. 

You’d followed _Panic! At the Disco_ avidly since _I Write Sins Not Tragedies_ came out when you were in middle school. There wasn’t much to do where you’d grown up, so you and your friends relied on music and magazines to keep yourselves entertained. Music was big for you. You sang, knowing you weren’t terribly good, but continued thanks to support from your friends. Dancing, however. You loved dancing. You’d never taken any classes, but you were good at it. You knew you were good at dancing. 

You’d never randomly sing with anyone around (whom you didn’t know) but you could dance just about anywhere to just about anything. Dancing just came easily to you. You could make up a dance on the spot and memorize just about any dance, country square dance or upbeat hip hop- it didn’t matter. 

You dried your hands on your apron, mouthing the words to _Death of a Bachelor_ as you grabbed the phone and moved to the counter, cleaning product in your other hand. You propped the phone against the label maker as you sprayed the counter tops. _Victorious_ blared from your phone as you wiped to the rhythm of the song on the steel counter tops. With the counters as close to spotless as you could get them, you grabbed the red broom from the corner of the room. You didn’t mind cleaning, and honestly, the place needed a good cleaning as your coworkers and manager didn’t care for cleaning up after themselves. 

You let yourself move freely in the safety of your department to _High Hopes_. Broom gliding in front of you collecting crumbs and dirt, whirling around to the beat. You jumped around easily, circling your pile of crumbs occasionally. Your head banged to the beat, hopping around and breaking into dance. The broom left forgotten leaning against the counter as you moved gracefully. _Emperor's New Clothes_ played next, and you instantly fell into the memorized jerky movements from the video. Mouthing the chorus animatedly as you leaned forwards to sweep your pile of crumbs into the dust pan and into the garbage. 

You’d already prepared the mop and bucket, so you easily pulled the mop from the soapy water and plopped it against the ground. 

You swayed to the beat of _Ready To Go_ , mouthing the words easily, you pushed the mop around, sidestepping to avoid stepping in the puddle of water, but you couldn’t help yourself from doing Brendon’s 50’s dance from the music video, totally soaking your sneakers. The mop used as a momentary 50’s microphone. You laughed at yourself as you hopped and sashayed across the wet floor behind the counter. The mop trailed behind you with your 50’s like movements. 

The song transitioned into _Girls/ Girls/ Boys_ you mouthed along, running your hand along your side, much like how Brendon did in the music video. You swayed your hips easily as you pushed the mop on a particularly grimy part of the floor. 

You listened to the end of the current song, and you lit up when _Say Amen_ started playing. You jumped into the song enthusiastically, singing your favorite parts quietly as you continued to mop. 

**Oh, it's Saturday night, yeah**  
**Swear to God, I ain't ever gonna repent**  
**Mama, can I get another amen?**  
**Oh oh oh oh oh**

You paused. Well, more like froze. You’ve listened to this exact song on Spotify hundreds of times... and there’s never... never once been an echo like that- 

You turned slowly. Brendon fucking Urie was stood leaning against the door frame. He grinned at you easily. 

**Oh, it's Saturday night, yeah**

You watched him push off where he was leaning against the door frame, stepping closer and continuing on belting the next words- 

**It's Saturday, Saturday, Saturday**  
**Oh oh oh oh oh**  
**Oh, it's Saturday night, yeah**  
**Swear to God, swear to God, swear to God**

You couldn’t believe your eyes. He was here. He was singing _Say Amen_ in the grocery store. The grocery store where you worked. He was here. Brendon was here. _Oh God, Brendon was here!_

You scrambled quickly to turn off the music, face flushing as you fumbled with the volume button before actually pausing the music and shutting the app down. 

You stared wide eyed for a second, collecting yourself before clearing your throat. It was now, while Brendon pouted at you for turning his song off, that you took him in. He was dressed casually, a black sweatshirt and tight black skinny jeans with black and white converse all-star shoes. His hair styled but it was slightly messy meaning it had probably been done that morning, and he was sporting black framed circular glasses. 

A plastic shopping basket was set on the floor beside him, its contents simply dog treats, a chocolate bar, a container or yogurt, some energy drinks and a bottle of wine. 

“That was totally awesome.” You opened your mouth to apologize for speaking, only to realize that it hadn’t been you saying it. Brendon had said that. But what was awesome? 

“What are...” you swallowed nervously, “what are you doing here?” It was stupid to ask, it was a grocery store- and the basket beside him was a pretty solid give away of what he was doing. But your brain was fried, and you were actually surprised you’d managed to form a full sentence. Brendon Urie was here, right in front of you. 

“Shopping,” he gestured easily to the basket not fazed at all by your shock, he grinned at you stepping into the department, “thought I heard some of my songs so I thought I’d investigate.” 

“Oh, um yes.” You nodded, “what else would you be doing in a grocery store?” The question was mostly mocking yourself, but you glanced up with a small smile when Brendon gave a hearty chuckle. 

Then, as if you’d been slapped in the face, you remembered dancing and twirling around the department to his music. How long had he been watching? Had you made a fool of yourself in front of Brendon Urie without knowing? 

“You... you were?” You stuttered, face blossoming into red hues as he chuckled. His shining smile was all you needed to confirm your thoughts. 

“When did you... notice?” 

“Well, uh, I heard _Victorious_ as I was heading to the check out, and well... noticed you-” his hand rubbed the back of his neck as he flashed a sheepish grin, “noticed you dancing around _High Hopes_.” 

Your hands flew to cover your cheeks that were burning with heat. He’d seen, well, a whole lot. 

Normally, people watching you dance wouldn’t bother you. Honestly, you enjoyed twirling around for the elderly people who came in, or sweeping little kids off their feet to the tune as parents watched with smiles (usually awarding the children cookies for their ‘fabulous dancing skills!’). Countless times other night staff members have stopped by to watch- or sometimes join in- but Brendon had been watching. The writer of most of the songs and the singer of all of them. He’d been watching. 

“You were really good!” Brendon grinned, stepping forwards and sticking his hand out, “I’m assuming you know me, at least a little, but I don’t know who you are.” 

“Oh, uh,” you gripped Brendon’s hand gently, giving it a firm shake, “I’m (Y/N)(L/N). It’s really amazing to meet you!” You ginned. With the fangirling out of the way, you could simply enjoy meeting Brendon on a basic human level, after all, he was just as much human as you- no matter his popularity. 

Brendon grinned, taking a step back, his shoes squeaking on the linoleum of the floor, and it was then that you remembered you were literally standing in a pool of soapy water. Your shoes were soaked, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. 

You laughed quietly to yourself, walking to the mop bucket to wring out the mop before trying to soak up some of the pool. It wasn’t until someone cleared their throat did you look up and notice Brendon was still standing there. You had expected him to... you know, leave. He’d solved the mystery of who was playing his songs? Why would he hang around, with an obvious fan no less? 

“I wasn’t kidding,” Brendon says, tilting his head to stare at you. 

“Kidding about what?” You questioned. You lifted the sopping mop into the bucket to wring it out before glancing down and clearing up some more of the water. 

“About your dancing! It was awesome,” He grinned. 

“I wouldn’t say awesome,” You said with a small smile. You’d never been one to marvel at compliments, and they usually made you flush in embarrassment and gave you an uncomfortable feeling. 

“I would! Where’d you even learn to dance like that?” 

“Mostly just watching and copying.” You shrugged, leaning against the counter in the department, the mop handle resting against your shoulder as you looked towards Brendon. That was how you’d learned. You studied videos on YouTube and copied in the safety of your basement. You hadn’t actually started dancing until middle school when you’d stumbled upon bands like _Panic!_ , _Fall Out Boy_ and _Twenty One Pilots_. Learning the basics from watching them and a couple dance videos online, you started choreographing routines for you and your friends to do for school talent shows, pep rallies and of course, just for fun. 

“Seriously? No classes? Nothing?” He looked pretty shocked. You didn’t know how to respond to that- you knew you were pretty good, but not good enough for this kind of reaction from someone like Brendon. 

“Nope,” you responded popping the ‘p’ sound with a small shake of your head as you looked anywhere but at Brendon. 

“That’s so cool,” Brendon sounded stunned. When you looked back at him, he was sporting a giant smile, “that’s seriously fucking cool. How long does it take you to memorize them?” 

“Depends on the dance I guess, a day or two for your parts in _Ready To Go_ -” 

“Can you do all the parts?” Brendon sounded giddy as he asked, vibrating in his spot. “It took me weeks to get the dancing right.” 

You scrunched your nose up, tilting your head, “Of course I can.” 

“Show me! Show meee!” You glanced at him with a look of hesitation. “I’ll sing it! And do it with you, if you’d like? It’s been a while but I think I still remember all of it.” 

You thought it over for a second, taking in Brendon’s pleading eyes and slight pout. You nodded with a sigh and a small smile. It was a chance of a lifetime. Brendon wanted you to dance while he sang- he _volunteered_ to dance with you as well. Who would say no to that? 

Before you knew it, you were dancing along to just Brendon’s vocals. He moved along beside you, missing a few steps as it had been a while since he’d done the dance. You noticed a few of your coworkers looking at you with shocked expressions from their departments, you knew a couple of them liked _Panic!_. 

“That was so fucking crazy!” Brendon buzzed, stepping out of the department huffing a breath. “You’re just what I’ve been looking for! Who knew I’d find you in a grocery store.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Can you partner dance?” Brendon countered, grinning at you, “with the dipping and swinging around? Super upbeat?” 

“Uh, yes? Why?” 

“How would you like to be in the music video for _Dancing’s Not A Crime_?” Brendon grinned. “I want someone who knows what they’re doing but I’m not looking for fame. I just want it to be casual dancing- and that’s pretty hard to find out in Hollywood.” 

“Why would you want me?” You asked wide eyed. This was a lot. You’d just met the man twenty minutes ago and now he’s asking you to be in his music video. The music videos that basically started your journey for something greater in life than a desk job. He’s giving you that big break you’d been striving for- but why? 

“Why wouldn’t I? Did you see what you just did right there? You learned that in what? Two days?” Brendon gestured wildly behind you, talking about the dance and singing you’d just done together. “You did the part better than I did! And you did it calmly- you barely fangirled over me! You intrigue me, (Y/N). You clearly love dancing, and you’re fucking good at it.” 

Your face grew gradually redder with each word he spoke, until up to the tips of your ears were a bright shade of red. 

“Please, come on!” Brendon sent you a toothy smile, tilting his head with eyes filled with amusement. 

“Um, okay.” You agreed, sending a small toothy grin back at him. 

“Yes! That’s awesome! This is going to be so fucking cool. I can’t wait to tell Sarah. She’s gonna love you, dude.” You flushed once more, turning your face to try and hide it. “Here,” Brendon passed his phone to you, it was open to a new contact file. You stared at it for a second before glancing at Brendon with an unsure expression. “Give me your number, I’ll talk to Zack and we’ll set everything up.” 

You stared for another second, unsure, before adding you name and phone number to the page. You watched Brendon save the contact before slipping his phone in his pocket and picking up his grocery basket. 

“Sarah’s gonna kill me for being gone so long, I better get going. I look forward to working with you, (Y/N). Talk soon.” 

“I look forward to working with you as well. Thank you so much.” You replied honestly, smiling widely as he turned to leave. He turned his head as he walked, flashing a beaming smile and a wave thrown over his shoulder before disappearing around a corner. 

You stood slack in the middle of the still fairly damp floor. Your shift had ended fifteen minutes ago, and no doubt the electronic punch in/ out clock was going to be mad- but you’d just met Brendon Urie and gotten the biggest break in your whole life. You grinned to yourself as you picked up the mop and quickly soaked up the remaining water. 

You couldn’t wait to get on the phone with (BFF/Name).

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this! It's nice to finally get this out of my head. 
> 
> This is my first Self-Insert fic :)
> 
> Please remember to comment, kudos and bookmark it for later!


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